


Raise Your Glass High, For Tomorrow We Die

by humblepirate



Series: Love Me Dead universe [3]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Assisted Masturbation, Blow Jobs, D/s, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Drunk Sex, Dry Humping, Exhibitionism, F/M, Fingering, First Time, Gen, Ghost Sex, Hand Jobs, Hickies, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, No Incest, Orgasm Denial, Other, Premature Ejaculation, Sex neutral reader, Voyeurism, gender neutral reader, substance use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:52:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humblepirate/pseuds/humblepirate
Summary: Klaus gets awfully clingy when he's drunk, which is normally very frustrating when you're unable to physically touch one another. Even so, there's a lot you can do together without touching... especially when Ben enters the mix.





	Raise Your Glass High, For Tomorrow We Die

**Author's Note:**

> This is from my ongoing fic Love Me Dead. If you want to read the whole story, you can find it in the "Love Me Dead universe" series to which this fic belongs.
> 
> A quick note: this fic is gender/sex-neutral, so my intention with having the reader refer to their dick in this ficlet is with the assumption that if they don't have a natural penis, they'd use a dildo or strapon. In my experience, it's common for users of synthetic penises to refer to it as if it was organic. If you'd like to discuss it, you can always comment below or message me privately on Tumblr at humblepirate. I'm always happy to discuss ways I can make my fics more accessible to all!!

Klaus has not exactly been sober, per se. While he’s stayed away from the harder drugs, he hasn’t abstained from weed or the occasional drink. You’re not sure where he’s getting the money, seeing as there isn’t anything of value left in the apartment to sell, but you’re not about to ask him.

Most of the time he has no issue seeing you or Ben even when he’s toasted. From what Ben tells you, this is a walk in the park compared to how Klaus used to get. You’ve never had to live with someone who suffers from substance abuse (as far as you can remember), but it sounds like a nightmare for all parties involved, so you are content to allow Klaus his indulgences if it will keep him from foraying into his more… destructive habits.

He gets rather handsy when he’s drunk, a state which is not thwarted in the least by the fact that he is unable to touch you. Damn him if he’ll stop trying, though.

Since your awkward-conversation-turned-heartfelt-confession, you and Ben have gradually adjusted to the new dynamic between you. It’s clear that you feel something for both him and his brother (what that something is you have yet to discover, but that’s a problem for future you), and Klaus was, unsurprisingly, very okay when you told him about it.

“Do I look like a person who gives a damn about something as mundane as  _monogamy_?” he’d said from his place sprawled across the bed. His eyes had appraised you in a way that made your spine feel like liquid gold. “So long as I get to… partake,” his lips had stretched into a feral, toothy grin, “I don’t mind having to share.”

“To be clear,” Ben piped up, “this isn’t going to be some weird twincest threesome thing. We’re not biologically related, but he’s still my  _brother_.”

Your voice had disappeared completely under the embarrassment crushing your chest, but Klaus had thankfully saved you from having to stammer out a response. “  _Please_. Don’t flatter yourself, Benny boy,” he said, waving a dismissive hand at his brother.

His gaze slid back to you, alight with a new hunger at the prospect you’d presented to him. He shifted his thighs further apart, setting your heart racing with how perfectly his leather pants hugged his form, and the heat in his eyes told you that he was remembering the exact same thing you were- your lips ravishing his thighs, kisses leaving a trail of red bite marks, nails digging into his flesh as he writhed and begged beneath you… 

You quickly averted your eyes to shield the flush of arousal creeping up your neck.

Since then, the three of you have carried out a strange kind of evading dance. You drift toward one another on waves of attraction, then quickly pull away under the anxiety of being the first one to initiate something physical.

This is how you end up in your old bedroom, Klaus lounging on the beanbag with his usual laissez-faire facade, you and Ben curled up on opposite ends of the bed with your legs resting over his. The former tosses his head back to down the dregs of his third margarita, the soft lamplight glancing off the greenish-yellow liquid. When he leans over to place the empty glass out of knocking-over range, you can see the bits of sugar from the rim clinging to his lips. He catches your eye and licks the sugar off with a knowing smirk.

“Well, it’s official.” His lips slide into a goofy grin. “I’m drunk.”

“What else is new?” Ben grumbles. You kick him gently in the side.

“Stop teasing him. He’s sensitive,” you say with a mock-pout. Ben rolls his eyes.

“That’s right. I’m  _sensitive_ ,” Klaus simpers. He places a hand over his heart as he swivels toward you, pure adoration written in his features. “I’m so grateful that  _someone_ in this house understands the depths of my tortured soul.”

“Please. You’re as deep as a puddle,” Ben snorts.

Klaus’s gaze swings toward him, twisting into a mask of contempt as he points an accusing finger at his brother. “You, shush!  _Mi amor_ ,” he turns back to you, his expression melting once more into a doting facade, “do go on.”

You snicker. “About what? How adorable you are when you’re drunk?”

“Yes, yes! Go on, tell me more! My ego demands it.” He settles back into the beanbag and waves his hand at you like a king granting a minor boon to one of his subjects. You meet Ben’s gaze and roll your eyes.

“Don’t mind him. He’s just fishing for attention,” Ben says.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you reply. “I’ve more or less learned to tune him out at this point..”

Klaus’s head pops up from where he had begun to melt into a drunken puddle. “  _Qu_ é?” he cries in a voice shrill with indignance.

Ignoring him, you retract your legs so that you can crawl closer to Ben. Your excitement picks up as you lean toward him, painfully conscious of the weight of everything hanging between you. It’s thrilling to tap into your dominant side in any situation, but in this moment, with him, there’s something different about it. There’s a charge in the air, something bright and beautiful sparking between the two of you, and you want nothing but to let its current burn through you.

His hands are resting at his sides, his demeanor relaxed, but there’s a tension in his posture as his succumbs to the magnetism drawing your bodies closer. His expression is placid, his twitching jaw and trembling fingers the only evidence of the turmoil roiling beneath his skin. You imagine that he’s going through much the same thing you are, the battle between the wariness of ruining the easy dynamic you’ve cultivated and the desire to throw all that baggage out the window and just give in.

You pause only when you’re close enough to feel his breath tickle your lips. His endless brown eyes are deep, vulnerable, terrified- a mirror of everything you’ve been feeling the past few weeks, yet underlaid with the glimmer of excitement. You want this.  _He_ wants this.

The meeting of your lips is an electrical explosion, a fire searing through your veins and leaving your limbs weak with pleasure. Ben seems at first hesitant to deepen the kiss, but when you press toward him and run your tongue over his closed lips, he assents with a gentle moan. It’s strange and remarkable, everything somewhat intangible, like if you stop kissing him he’ll just float away, so your hands jump to the crease of his thighs where they meet his pelvis. Just the pressure of your grip against his body has him melting beneath you.

The kiss ends far too soon, your panting breaths mingling in the air between you. His eyes have fluttered closed in quiet bliss. Your thumbs slip under the hem of his sweatshirt and rub over his hips, feeling the way he shudders at the sensation. You grin at the knowledge of how easy it is for you to take him apart so completely. 

“Oh my.”

The sudden intrusion into your intimate moment reminds you that Klaus is still in the room. You and Ben glance over to see him sitting up on the beanbag, eyebrows raised, looking quite like a cat eyeing a pair of canaries.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he says. He gives you a smile teeming with innocence, but you can see the way his hand traces over his own chest, wandering southward in the direction of his waistband.

You roll your eyes at him. “Down, boy,” you tease.

You start to pull away and return to your corner, but a pair of hands on your wrists stops you. Ben pulls your gaze to his, and you’re struck by his burning desperation, like he’ll cry if you stop touching him.

“Please,” he whispers.

Your heart lurches. He takes your hands in his own and, without breaking eye contact, brings them to his lips. He presses kisses over each of your knuckles, gentle and reverent, like a pilgrim at the altar. When he’s made sure to give attention to every bit of skin, he guides your hands back to his waist and places his own upon your hips. He doesn’t speak, but the request is evident in the imploring look he shoots you as his fingers play along the hem of your shirt.

You brace your hands on the mattress behind him and lean closer, letting a predatory smile perk your lips. His fingers press softly into your flesh, coaxing you carefully toward him. You pause when your faces are just millimeters apart, his heightened breaths puffing against your lips, the excitement and nerves peeking through his collected facade.

Instead of kissing him again, your lips divert their path to his cheek, trailing chaste pecks down to his jaw. When you feel the jut of bone, you let your kisses linger a few moments longer, allowing a bit of tongue to slip out as you make a home in the arch above his throat. His quiet breaths speed up, fingers digging into your hips not in a commanding way but just to have something to hold onto while you ravish him.

When you pepper the first hint of teeth across his neck, he sucks in a sudden gasp that escapes in a wavering groan. His fingers twitch like he wants to do more,  _touch_ more, but there’s a hesitation behind it. He’s  _nervous_ , the poor thing. You cup a hand over his cheek and guide him closer so your lips are right beside his ear.

“Just relax,” you whisper. “Let me take care of you.”

The subtle command elicits a soft whimper from his trembling lips.

You bring your lips back to his throat and continue to suck deep purple marks into his skin. The hand on his cheek moves to cradle the back of his head, and with the other you press down on his chest to indicate that he should lie back. He lets go of your hips and shimmies awkwardly until he has enough room to relax against the mattress. Once he’s comfortably settled, you swing your leg over his hips and adjust yourself so that your pelvis hovers inches above his own.

As you nip over Ben’s clavicle, you turn your head just enough to see what Klaus is up to. He’s seated on the floor and using the beanbag to prop himself up, coat and belt discarded beside him. He’s sitting with his legs spread, black jeans hugging his curves so perfectly it isn’t fair. One hand rests innocently on his knee, but the other is trailing playfully over his pecs, tugging at his nipple as he watches your performance. He catches your gaze and gives his nipple a particularly hard pinch, making his eyes slam shut and his mouth shoot open on a needy gasp. He bites his lip and rolls his hips up into empty air.

The arousal that rushes through you at the sight makes you want to just grind down against Ben, but you don’t think the poor boy could handle it right then. He’s already so flustered just from getting his neck covered in hickies, you’re not sure he’ll last much longer as is. His head tilts back on a soft moan, baring more of his beautiful skin for you to cover in your marks.

Ben’s hands linger at his sides, twitching with the need to press his touch into your flesh. You take his wrist and place it on your hip with an encouraging pat. When he doesn’t move immediately, you sit up a bit so you can look at him more fully. His face is flushed, lips parted around desperate pants- absolutely fucking wrecked.

“Touch me,” you whisper. You deliver a meaningful glance to Klaus, your words directed at Ben but clearly meant for the former to hear. “I want you to touch me, Ben.” Your gaze swivels back to his. “Please.”

Ben looks at you for a few uncertain moments, like he can’t quite believe this is happening, but his desire overwhelms his hesitation. His hands slide under your shirt and wrap around your waist, tugging you down for a frenzied kiss. He’s touching you like you’re the only thing he needs, the only one in the universe that matters to him. Your skin is aflame where it comes into contact with his, scrabbling at your flesh in a harried daze, desperate to feel as much of you as possible.

His lips seek out yours with a passion that has your toes curling against the mattress. The kiss is not quite akin to a battle, more a dance of tongues and lips that stirs a burning arousal in your core. You press yourself against him as if he might disappear any moment. You cup a hand around the back of his neck in order to pull him to you, reveling in the beautiful clash of teeth and fire and trembling fingers.

Somewhere below the sounds of your panting breaths and desperate kisses, you can hear a muffled moan and the slide of fabric over skin. You don’t need to look at Klaus to know that he’s just as affected by this makeout session as you are.

The heat is becoming too much- you need some kind of friction. You reach under Ben’s shirt and feel your way along his torso to his chest, teasing your fingers over his pert nipples and eliciting a needy groan. A moment later, you shift your hips to press against his, not quite moving, just asserting your place. His groan turns into a gasp that has all your blood whisking southward.

When you roll your pelvis against his, the sound that comes from his lips could put a heavenly chorus to shame. It’s absolutely beautiful, the unearthly pleasure carried on his voice. You can feel the hardness concentrated in his groin and make sure to focus your efforts  _right_ there. You swallow his needy gasps, pressing your tongue into his mouth to taste his skin and lap up the sounds of his arousal.

He drags his nails down your back, sending sparks of wonderful pain through your bloodstream as you pleasure him. You set an even pace, grinding your hips against his with precise motions, making sure to drag every whine and fevered moan from between those gorgeous lips. There’s an incredible heat stirring in your groin, not enough to get you off but definitely heading in the right direction. You leave Ben’s lips to press biting kisses along his throat. His skin is already covered in an array of purple hickies, marking him as  _yours_. The sight is far hotter than it should be.

His hands slide over your rear and clamp down, rolling his hips against yours in an increasingly frenzied rhythm. He lets out a low whine of desire, the sound belied by a grunt of effort as he encourages you to dry hump him into oblivion.

“I-I… mm… can’t,” he gasps out.

You giggle into his neck. “What do you need, love? You need to use your words.”

His lips open as if to speak but all that comes out is a guttural moan. His teeth dig so hard into his lower lip that you fear you’ll see blood. His fingers tighten against your flesh with a grip more painful than arousing, hips working frantically against yours, his breath escaping in short grunts. Suddenly he tosses his head back and stills, letting out a reedy, high-pitched whine as he finds his climax.

An unexpected quiet descends upon the room, underpinned by Ben’s slowly softening panting. You hold yourself a hair above his body, watching his face for a confirmation of what you believe just happened. He releases his reddened lip and the intensity in his features slowly relaxes as he comes down from, what you presume to be, his first orgasm.

The stillness is, naturally, broken first by Klaus’s snort. “Dude,” he scoffs, “did you just-”

“Stop it,” you snap. You carefully extract yourself from Ben’s grasp and place a gentle hand on his cheek. “Ben?” you murmur. “You good?”

The realization arrives slowly. When it does, Ben claps his hands over his face and lets out a groan of shame.

“Fuuuck. I can’t believe I did that,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay. You couldn’t help it.” You shoot Klaus a looks that makes no secret of what you’ll do to him if he opens his mouth. He draws his thumb and middle finger over his lips and makes like he’s securing a lock, though the bratty grin doesn’t leave his face.

Ben rolls over so his face is buried in the mattress. “I’m so, so sorry,” he says in a muffled voice.

“Seriously, Ben. It’s fine. It happens to everyone,” you assure him. You want to do something to comfort him, but you’re not sure if touching him would be the best option right now, so you settle for giving his shoulder a light pat.

He snorts harshly. “Yeah, right. I’ve never even  _kissed_ anyone before you, and you’re so cool and sexy and experienced-”

“I’m really not,” you interrupt. Something pleasant tingles at the base of your neck when he calls you sexy, but you shove aside your lingering arousal. “I’m just playing it by ear, man. For all I know, I died a virgin too! But there’s no shame in never having sex. It’s not the be-all, end-all of relationships. And honestly,” heat starts to creep into your cheeks, “it was kind of super hot watching you come like that.”

He turns his head just enough to peek an eyelid open and look at you. 

“Really?” he says quietly.

Your heart softens at the sight. His normally collected facade is gone, replaced by this meek boy with his face half-buried in the mattress in shame, and you just want to grab him by the cheeks and kiss him until he stops feeling mad at himself.

“Yes, really.” You shuffle closer to him on the bed and run a hand through his mussed hair. He lets out a contented sigh. “And I’d also super like to do it to you again.”

He cocks an eyebrow, a bit of mischief creeping back into his eyes. “That’s a good thing,” he whispers, “because I would… really like to come for you. Again.”

A vicious heat shoots straight through your gut at his words and the teasing expression accompanying them. This boy is going to give you a heart attack someday, you swear.

“Are you sure? A hundred percent?” you ask softly.

He nods so fast you’re surprised his head doesn’t pop off.

“‘M just gonna stick around and spectate, if it’s all the same to you two horndogs,” Klaus interjects.

You glance at Ben, who rolls his eyes but nods his assent.

“Alright then. On your back.”

Ben rolls over onto his back and gets himself comfortably settled against the pillows. His hands come to rest at his sides, pulse thrumming in his neck as he regards you with apprehension and a dirty kind of thrill.

You swing a leg over his hips and run your hands up and down his thighs, admiring the tense muscle beneath the fabric of his jeans. You stop at the hem of his sweatshirt and tease your fingers underneath, playing over the skin just above his waistband. He shifts beneath you and emits a nearly inaudible whimper.

“Take this off,” you order him, tugging on the bottom of the hoodie.

He scrambles to obey, pulling the material over his head with fumbling fingers. It takes a few moments to remove his upper layers, but finally he lays half naked beneath you, chest fluttering with excitement.

Your lips slide into a confident smirk as you take in his trembling form. You run your fingers over his torso, the plane of his abs, the sinews of his triceps, enjoying the sensation of his skin. He really is beautiful to look at, and equally fun to touch. Pleasant shivers run through your bones, arousal beginning to pool in your groin, and it is so very difficult to keep from just leaning down and devouring him.

You trail a finger over the zipper of his jeans. He’s already getting hard again, his hands twitching like he’s fighting the urge to touch you himself. You tug at the button on his fly and watch the tension in his face, the way his jaw tightens and his eyes roll into his head as he lets out a groan.

“Please don’t tease,” he moans. “Please, please just touch me.”

You laugh at the desperation in his voice. “Slow down, darling. I’m not done playing with you just yet.”

He breathes out a strangled curse as you drag a finger over the notable bulge growing in his jeans. He whines and bucks his hips into your touch.

“Just  _fuck_ me already, dammit.  _Please_ ,” he groans.

You freeze, every drop of blood stilling in your veins at the words. Fuck, but that is a beautiful image. Ben spread out beneath you, one of his legs hooked over your shoulder, fingers clawing at the sheets and moaning like he’s getting paid for it as you ram his tight asshole…

As fucking incredible as that sounds, though, you know that he’s not ready for that quite yet. The boy only just had his first kiss, for pete’s sake. You’d rather save the really good stuff for after you’ve had a proper conversation about it- preferably when the two of you aren’t distracted by your own arousal.

You pop the button on Ben’s fly, revealing the tented fabric of his underwear beneath. He lets out a shuddering sigh.

“I don’t think you’re ready for me to fuck you quite yet,” you murmur. His mouth droops in a disappointed pout, but you wipe it away with a swipe of your thumb over the head of his dick straining against his underwear. He squirms eagerly in your hold.

You glance at Klaus over on his side of the room, and your chest flutters at the sight. He’s reclining against the beanbag, legs spread and hand rubbing over his own considerable bulge. He watches you reverently from beneath hooded eyelids.

“I will, however,” you say, turning back to Ben and peeling away the fabric of his briefs, “be perfectly happy to completely  _ruin_ you just. Like. This.”

You gather the come smeared across his skin from his previous orgasm and use it as lube to stroke over his cock, slow and firm. Ben’s jaw falls in a soundless moan as his head falls back, his entire body arching into your touch. His fingers tighten against the mattress and his abdomen ripples as he thrusts his hips forward. You laugh at his eagerness and press his hips back down to the bed.

Before you can begin properly jerking him off, Ben is already rolling his hips, fucking up into your slick fist. The precome leaking out of his dick contributes more lubrication to the smooth slide of his cock beneath your grip. His eyes are screwed shut and his mouth slack, grunts and desperate moans spilling through his lips.

“What a good boy,” you hum. Ben whines and squirms at the praise.

You look back at Klaus, who’s fully unzipped his pants and begun to thrust up into his own hand. You give him a naughty smirk as you tease over his brother’s cock. You fully expect him to shoot back some kind of sarcastic quip, but he just bites his lip and gives his dick another stroke that has pearls of precome beading along his slit.

“Please talk to me some more,” Ben moans.

You raise an eyebrow as your gaze rakes over his shuddering form. Your steady movements over his cock slow enough that he peeks out at you from beneath heavy eyelids, whining and wiggling his hips in protest, but you squeeze his erection and he stills with a whimper.

“What do you want me to say to you?” you murmur. You shift a bit farther up his thighs until you’re nearly close enough to grind against his leaking cock. His breath releases in an impatient huff.

“Tell me… how good I look, completely at your mercy,” he whispers. “What you want to do to me, how much you w-want my cock…”

“Someone thinks awfully highly of himself,” you giggle. Still, you can’t ignore the pleasant shiver that rushes through you at the request gasped from needy lips. You tilt your head, considering him carefully like a predator assessing its victim.

“Why don’t you play with your nipples,” you order him.

He lets out a shaky sigh as he brings his hands up to his chest. He rubs over his nipples, hesitant for a moment, but when your motions on his dick speed up he emits a gasp and pinches one of his nipples  _hard_. He tugs at it, mouth falling slack with pleasure, hips beginning to circle and grind his cock into your grip.

“Such a needy boy,” you sigh. Your free hand slips over his thigh, raising gooseflesh in its path toward his groin. “You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you? Want me to hold you down and make you scream as you come on my cock?” Your fingers wrap around his scrotum and massage in a gentle rhythm. Ben’s hips jerk unsteadily.

You turn to check on Klaus and nearly whimper at what you see there. He’s planted both feet on the floor so that he can lift his hips and slide a finger into his own asshole. You’ve no idea where he got the lube- no doubt he keeps some on his person at all times- but he’s already fully up to the knuckle of his index finger. His other hand is steadily rubbing over his cock in a rhythm that mimics what you’re doing to Ben. His teeth dig into his lower lip to muffle the shaky moans that threaten to spill out. His eyes are fixed with rapture upon your own hand expertly jerking Ben to oblivion, pulse jumping in his throat and skin glistening with perspiration.

“Doesn’t he look just incredible like this?” you ask him. Klaus nods rapidly and begins to ease a second finger into himself.

Ben whines and twists his nipples between his fingers. “T-tell me more,” he gasps.

You smirk down at him as your strokes speed up. “What about, darling? How perfect you look with your cock in my hand, desperate and begging for me?” You give his dick a squeeze that evokes a low groan. “Do you want me to be the first person to make you come? Want me to jerk you off until your cute little virgin cock spills all over my hand? I’d keep jerking your dick until you couldn’t stand it anymore, then make you lick every drop it off my hand. You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Naughty boy.”

His harsh pants escape through clenched teeth, hips working frantically to match your pace. He’s foregone playing with his nipples in favor of running his hands over his own body, gouging red marks into his torso, burrowing in his hair and tugging until he cries out at the pain. He’s squirming so hard you have to press your free hand into his chest to keep him in place enough to keep pleasuring him.

A soft squelching noise drags your attention to the opposite side of the room, where Klaus is now three fingers deep in himself and thrusting like he might die if he doesn’t come soon. His skin is shiny with sweat and lube and precome dribbling down his cock and over his balls. He whimpers when he notices you watching him, and you could swear that his hand speeds up on his dick.

“What a filthy boy, getting off on watching your brother get fucked,” you tease him. He chokes on a gasp, but doesn’t pause in his motions. You give him a fake pout. “Don’t you wish it was your cock I was playing with? Poor living Klaus, so neglected.” Your lips quirk into a cruel smile. “Don’t worry. Maybe one day you’ll get the pleasure of being fucked by me.”

He chokes out a curse and his hips stutter. You figure that means he’s getting close, but you certainly can’t be having that.

“Stop touching yourself,” you snap at him.

He lets out a low whine and slows his motions over his cock, though he doesn’t remove his fingers from his ass. “That’s no  _fair_ ,” he grumbles.

“I said,  _stop_ touching yourself. Or the next time I get the opportunity, I’ll edge you for hours.” His fingers don’t slow, so you fix him with a poisonous glare. “You have three seconds to stop touching yourself before I edge you  _and_ Ben.” You loosen your grip until you’re barely touching Ben, to show your threat is good.

“Fuck’s sake, Klaus, just do it!” Ben cries.

“Fine, fine,” Klaus mumbles. He finally removes his hands from himself and crosses his arms over his chest with a childish pout. Even through his clear displeasure, you can see the way his dick twitches when you give him another sinuous smirk and speed up on Ben’s cock again.

“See how easy it is when you just do what I tell you?” you hum. He rolls his eyes, but his erection doesn’t flag a bit as he watches you continue to pleasure his brother.

You turn back to Ben to admire the way he’s panting beneath you, bare and desperate and thrusting into your touch. You can’t resist reaching down to tweak a nipple just to hear his squeal of surprise and pleasure.

“What do you say, love? Are you ready to come for me?” you murmur.

“  _Yes_. Fucking hell, yes,” he groans. His hips buck against your hand, but you stop him with a dangerous squeeze to the base of his dick.

“Ah-ah. My pace, dearest.” You can’t help licking your lips at the delicious sight of him spread out like a goddamn banquet, so ready to acquiesce to your demands. He tangles his fingers in his already wholly disheveled hair as he fights the urge to fuck into your fist.

“Let me know when you’re close,” you instruct him. He nods eagerly.

The slide of skin over slick skin is absolutely beautiful, more perfect than anything you’ve ever felt in this life or the one before. It’s absolutely adorable how hard Ben tries to keep still for you, his muscles twitching with the effort to obey. God, but he really is marvelous. His breaths have turned into an endless stream of desperate moans more befitting a porno than the otherworldly beauty laid out beneath you.

It’s such a gorgeous sight, and you’ve been working so hard, you feel as if it would be a shame not to allow yourself a bit of pleasure of your own. You shift your position and carefully, trying not to falter in your rhythm, drag your pelvis against Ben’s jean-clad thigh. It’s fucking incredible. You let yourself shift back and forth, grinding your hips against his leg on the downstroke and then swiping back up to gather the precome beading on his head, then back down again.

You can feel Ben tensing his muscles to allow you more friction. You let out a desperate whimper that you pray he doesn’t hear over the sound of his own heavenly moans.

His movements become more violent, the urge to thrust against you growing harder to control. He lets out a hiss as you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock and twist your hand.

“F-feels too goo-ood,” he groans. “I’m g-gon-na-”

“Shh, love. Just lay back,” you whisper.

He moans pathetically when you let go of his cock and shimmy backward, but then you’ve got your mouth around him and nothing has ever felt fucking better than he does in that moment. His hips thrust unthinkingly in your mouth, something that would have given you a harsh surprise had you not anticipated it and pulled up at the right moment to avoid a choking hazard. You press his hips into the mattress and sink back down on his cock, taking him as much as you can on the initial go. The sound that tears itself from his lungs is enough to fuel your fantasies for a lifetime.

You don’t take your time playing with his cock, knowing how close he is already. His movements become more erratic as he rockets toward his peak, his body twitching and jerking frantically as he tries not to thrust into your mouth again. Though you can’t see Klaus, you can hear low whines and the slapping of skin on skin coming from his side of the room, and your heart gives a thrill at the prospect of punishing him later.

Ben lets out a sudden cry, then a pressure is holding you down on his cock almost as far as you can go. You struggle to hold back a gag as the tip of his dick brushes over your uvula. Startlingly temperature-less come slides unpleasantly down your throat- swallowing has never been your favorite method, but it’s far easier to clean up, and at least it’s far enough down that you don’t have to taste it. Finally, Ben lets go of your head and collapses against the mattress, entirely spent.

You sit up just in time to see Klaus spilling over his own stomach, hips bucking into his hand as he milks every bit of orgasm from his cock. He leans against the chair with a contented sigh. At least he has the decency to look somewhat ashamed when you glare at him.

“I hope that orgasm was worth it, because it’s the last one you’ll have for a very long time,” you admonish him. He groans and sticks his tongue at you.

You return your attention to Ben. He’s so still he could almost be asleep but for the lingering moans of pleasure lacing each breath. You smooth his hair back from his forehead and stroke over his side, waiting patiently for him to come down enough to speak.

When he finally opens his eyes, he looks up at you as if you’re the goddamn messiah.

“Can we do that again? Like, every day for the rest of eternity?” he says.

You laugh and stroke over his cheek fondly. “Can we take a raincheck? I’m not sure your body could handle any more,” you tease.

He smiles gently, but then a line of worry furrows his forehead. “I just realized, you didn’t get to come.” He nods toward your own still-aching groin. “Should I-?”

“Don’t worry about me. You can make up for it next time,” you assure him.

He sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers stroking over his scalp. He peeks one eyelid open to look at you.

“Would you…” He swallows, like it’s incredibly difficult for him to ask you a favor- doesn’t he know you would move heaven and earth for him? “Would you cuddle me for a bit?”

Warmth blossoms in your chest. “Of course, dearest,” you murmur. He shuffles sideways to give you enough room to lie down beside him and drape your arm over his side. He snuggles back against your chest and lets out a contented huff.

“Ew. Get a room.” Klaus grabs his empty glass and stalks out of the bedroom, probably in the direction of the nearest tequila bottle.

You shake your head and tighten your arm over Ben’s body, tugging him close to yours. You slip into an easy sleep with his limbs tangled with your own.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any feedback or suggestions on how I can improve, please feel free to message me- I'm always happy to hear constructive criticism. Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Title is from Mama by My Chemical Romance.


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